In a no more comforting show of awareness of their own mortality, Chris smiled. What was one little coach going to do to a Hurley and a Carrington?

However, when Darius stepped out, Chris looked thoughtful for a moment.

He did nothing.

The coach, however, glanced back. With a sneer, he whipped his horse to run harder.

The world had gone mad to Darius. He shouted at the man again and was ignored. He slipped his head back into the window to quickly force off a boot. He climbed back out as close as he could even as the driver hurried the horses. He aimed the best he could straight for the driver's skull, certain he'd miss by at least a bit.

"Stop immediately!" He then threw the boot as hard as he could, hoping he at least struck the shoulder.

By some miracle/curse, the boot hit the driver straight in the face.

He toppled over.

The cart was now driving without a driver. Neiiiigh!

Darius gasped in shock. Never in a million years, if he tried again, would that have worked! He looked inside at Chris wide eyed. "I.. knocked out our driver. The carriage is running away with itself, we should jump out!" He nervously leaned back and pushed open the door, but it was difficult with the speed of the cab and he almost fell out. "I.. I will help you, if you need it.." He offered. He had no idea what he was doing, but they could crash at any moment.

Chris looked at him as though he’d asked him to jump out of a moving train. He’d rather have jumped out of a moving train, in fact: a train was not about to veer unexpectedly off the tracks afterward.

The horse galloped off down a street … but then started to slow. Crowds parted, some people laughing and others bemused as the horse wove through the crowd, carriage and all.

The smell of street food was strong.

Darius perhaps read too many adventurous books as indeed he felt the horse slow and he blushed as he was unable to meet Chris's eyes. As soon as he felt it was possible, he opened the door and hopped out. The people and food had luckily slowed the horse as it had no destination. He ran forwards to grab the reigns and gently tugged to calm it. At least he had ridden enough not to stumble on this task.

"Easy..." he was more annoyed than ever at their crazy driver and looked around to see where they were.

Chris, too, stepped out. His eyes landed on a sight that made the entirety of him glow.

The driver was twisted at the waist on the ground at an unnatural angle. His face, thrown against the pavement, a hoof print in his pallid cheek.

Necks weren’t supposed to turn that way.

Chris strode over grinning, slapping his hand on his shoulder and throwing his arm about Darius. It was as if he were the closest friend Chris had ever had; someone who had just shared the ultimate in-joke with him.

“Let’s get something to eat.”

When Darius noticed Chris 's face he immediately turned to see what could have that effect and saw the driver. He stared in shock and covered his mouth but was unable to look away. It was a twisted and morbid sight he'd never seen the like before and hoped never to again.

When he had the mind to look at his friend, preparing to say that it had been an accident, he was being lead away. That was his cue to silence and not let him see how he trembled. He kept close and numbly nodded as they walked. No one seemed to be reacting to them like callus thugs or the murderer he felt like. He unconsciously reached out to grab onto Chris 's sleeve to give him the will to keep walking and wondered if he was going to vomit.

Chris squeezed him in his arm, beaming away. There was a scrutinizing look at Darius, though the smile never faded.

Had he broken this one already? It was good to be alive.

He wondered how much more his dear friend could take.

“Fish and chips?” Chris asked, without a care in the world.